


The Hustle

by huntersociopathavenger



Category: Supernatural
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-29
Updated: 2019-01-29
Packaged: 2019-10-18 15:56:06
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 640
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17583899
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/huntersociopathavenger/pseuds/huntersociopathavenger
Summary: Y/n’s had a bad day, so what better way to make it better than hustling a stranger at pool?





	The Hustle

Y/n stepped inside, shaking off the raindrops clinging to her hair and clothes. Looking around, she noticed that the place was near empty save for the bartender and two men hunched over a table in the back. God, she really needed a pick me up after having to run all around town chasing clues that lead to nowhere.

“What’ll you have?” the woman behind the counter asked, not even looking up from the glass she had been polishing for the past 5 minutes.

“Whiskey,” y/n ran a hand through her damp hair and plopped herself down on a stool slumping over onto the table. “Straight.”

“Long day?”

“Don’t even get me started.” She reluctantly got out of the position she had gotten comfortable in once her drink was set in front of her. She sipped at it, and the brown liquid slowly eased the crappy day into a slightly less crappy one.

As soon as the bartender noticed y/n had drained the glass she whisked it away. “You want a refill?”

“No, thanks.” Y/n slapped a bill on the counter, and just as she was about to empty her place at the counter, one of the two men walked up to her.

“Hey, would you mind playing a game with me?” He gestured towards the pool table across the room and held out one of the cue sticks in his hand. “I asked my brother over there, but,” he leaned in closer to whisper in her ear, “he’s a bit of a buzzkill.”

She laughed, feigning drunk, and grabbed the stick. “Let’s play, Mr...?”

“Winchester, but you can call me Dean.”  
̶̶̶̶ «̶ ̶̶̶ ̶ ̶ ̶̶̶ ̶«̶ ̶̶̶ ̶　　　　　　 ̶»̶ ̶̶̶ ̶ ̶ ̶̶̶ ̶»̶ ̶̶̶ ̶ ̶

“Oops!” Y/n had accidentally caused the cue to bump into the 8 ball, knocking it into a pocket. “C’mon, let’s play again,” she said, already resetting the game.

“Are you sure? You’ve already lost 3 times and are down 300 dollars,” Dean chuckled, teasing her as he collected his earnings. It was too easy- the man had practically walked right into her trap.

Y/n put her arms around him and pulled his face closer. “I’m damn sure, Winchester. This time, we’ll play for 600.”

“Your loss,” he conceded, letting her go to grab his stick from its resting spot against the wall. He then signalled the bartender for two more beers and winked at his brother, who merely shook his head and went back to doing whatever he was doing on his laptop. “You go first darling.”

Y/n walked up to the table, lining her stick with the cue ball. Her aim was true, and a solid fell into a pocket. Shot after shot she made a ball into one of the holes, and smirked every time she saw Dean’s face fall more and more.

“Damn, woman! You’re good,” Dean admitted, pulling his wallet out of his back pocket after watching y/n single-handedly win the game. “Where’d you learn to play like that?”

”Oh, didn’t you know? I’m a badass,” she gloated, snatching her winnings out of the stupefied man’s hand and promptly leaving the bar.

̶̶̶̶ ̶«̶ ̶̶̶ ̶ ̶ ̶̶̶ ̶«̶ ̶̶̶ ̶　　　　　　 ̶»̶ ̶̶̶ ̶ ̶ ̶̶̶ ̶»̶ ̶̶̶ ̶ ̶

“Dude,” Sam nudged Dean as the pair walked back to the Impala after closing was announced, “You got hustled so bad.” He was barely able to contain his laughter and let his mirth loose, much to Dean’s dismay. “What? You’re the one who was an idiot.”

“Just shut up,” Dean growled yanking Baby’s door open, “And get in the car.”

̶̶̶̶ ̶«̶ ̶̶̶ ̶ ̶ ̶̶̶ ̶«̶ ̶̶̶ ̶　　　　　　 ̶»̶ ̶̶̶ ̶ ̶ ̶̶̶ ̶»̶ ̶̶̶ ̶ ̶

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading!


End file.
